


Perpetual Motion Machines

by GoblinCatKC



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Dark, Fucking Machines, M/M, Mad Science, Rape/Non-con Elements, Turtlecest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 08:12:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11376159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoblinCatKC/pseuds/GoblinCatKC
Summary: Donatello's mad scientist tendencies are showing. He needs a very particular energy, and his brothers are just the right source.





	Perpetual Motion Machines

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an animation from @seigakusan at tumblr.
> 
> This is what happens when I see great art and am in just the right mood. Rather dark erotica.

What scared Raphael wasn't so much that he was bound, his arms strapped painfully back so that his shoulders were nearly wrenched behind his shell.  Or that his legs were drawn up so as to clearly show the machine driving inches of hard rubber into him. Or even that there had been no end in sight for the past ten minutes.  
  
No, the fear came from that fact that he was that he was on display, held propped up in this uncomfortable position like a decoration. In the corner of Donatello's laboratory, he quietly suffered in the shadows, involuntarily twitching and shuddering with each thrust. The only light here was from the glass on the side, a black light that lit his cock, the machine, parts of his plastron in lurid colors. And even that seemed like an unintended effect since the black light was facing something else he couldn't see, and because Donatello couldn't even see him right now.  
  
His brother worked at his laptop, sipping coffee and occasionally looked into a microscope, recording and taking notes. He'd sat like that for...for however long it had been. Raphael had long lost track of time. He'd started out with lewd promises, trying to seduce Donatello into freeing him. What that hadn't caught his attention, he'd yelled at his brother's back, biting insults to distract him. Those had slowly tapered off into awkward muttering and then, as Raphael realized Donatello meant to have nothing to do with him, silence.   
  
Not perfect silence. As more minutes dragged on, Raphael winced, hissed in short breaths, groaned as the machinery missed a beat or sped up for a moment.  
  
So it went. Exquisite agony in the corner while Donatello moved from his laptop to a range of parts, terminals and cathodes, slowly assembling a battery. Pieces clattered, screwed in place, and over long minutes, a little box of wires and readouts was snapped together.  
  
Raphael's breath caught as Donatello picked up the box and brought it over. He watched his sibling put it down on the machine thrusting into him, and then two of the thin wires were carefully unwound. Tiny metal prongs jutted out of the ends, and Raphael tensed as he thought he'd be jabbed somewhere sensitive.   
  
Instead the wires were run up his leg, under a rope, to keep them clear of the moving parts of the machine, and then Donatello gently wound the wires around Raphael's cock, sliding the prongs against but not into his skin.  
  
"Tell me that ain't electric," Raphael whispered, no longer putting anything past him. "Please, tell me that ain't—"  
  
Donatello flipped a switch on the box. Raphael grit his teeth.   
  
A long moment passed. There was no jolt or shock, only silence as Donatello watched the readout. And then...  
  
.0001%  
  
"There we go," Donatello said to himself. He adjusted the engine to thrust a little faster, making Raphael twitch and strain harder, and a moment later, the readout changed again.  
  
.0002%  
  
Donatello gathered notes from his desk, adding them to a clipboard which he hung on the wall over Raphael's head. And then he left, without any comment, without even looking at Raphael. He flipped on a tiny light over his brother, as if lighting up an art piece, then turned off everything else in the lab and left, locking the door behind him.  
  
Raphael craned his neck, trying to see the notes. His eyes widened.  
  
Perpetual Motion test model #1  
Energy output: .1% per hour  
  
Left alone, he could only watch as the readout slowly ticked off percentage points. He didn't try to call out for help or scream. Donatello had soundproofed the door ages ago to keep from waking his brothers with his constant hammering and minor explosions.  
  
The readout had just changed to .639% when Donatello came back in with Leonardo slung neatly over his shoulder. Leonardo's eyes were open but glazed over, drugged, and Raphael watched helplessly as Leonardo was put in the same position, displayed as Donatello began to gather energy from him as well.  
  
Raphael had just clicked to 3.009% when Michelangelo was carried in.

* * *

In his laboratory, Donatello set two blue crystalline batteries into the shell cell, snapping the cover in place and screwing it down. There. The shell cells sucked battery life to nothing within days, but crystal Utrom batteries were so efficient that they wouldn't need to be replaced in years.  
  
Still, Utrom batteries were so finicky. He couldn't fill them with normal electricity—no, they required more naturalistic energy, absorbing it from the air, from the movement of the winds around them. But while that worked in a strange otherworld like Dimension X, the batteries simply didn't fill fast enough to make them viable. Which was a shame, because they were far more potent and viable than normal earth batteries.  
  
But now he had a way to collect energy far more quickly.  
  
Turning in his office chair, he leaned back and relaxed, swirling his coffee in its mug. He was surrounded by his prototypes—his own laser staff. A full size car battery for the van was almost complete. A hovercraft that generated enough thrust to lift silently and steadily.   
  
And in the back of his laboratory, his three "fuel cells."  
  
They'd all stopped begging and pleading, finally realizing that nothing they said would distract him. They winced or whimpered occasionally, whispered to each other sometimes, but mostly they were silent. Unless he was changing their crystals. Then they'd call his name, or ask when he'd let them go.  
  
He wasn't sure. They even twitched in their sleep—if he kept them watered and on a managed diet, he could keep them there perpetually.  
  
And it was a little ungrateful of them to ask, he thought. He was taking good care of them, and he'd even improved his own collection design so that now they were filling crystals every hour.  
  
"Soon," he promised. "Just after I finish..."  
  
Finish the hovercraft. Try a laser sai. And the next idea. And the next.   
  
Besides, it wasn't like he was going to keep them tied up forever.   
  
He reached for the mug and saw that it was empty.   
  
A constantly brewing coffee maker...yes. He would start work on that next.

 


End file.
